Voldemort Rising Chapter 1: Riddles First request
by Tom Marvolo Piddle
Summary: This story follows the transition from Tom Riddle to Lord Voldemort, including the 10 years he disappeared. Chapter 1: Tom Riddle attends Hogwarts to apply for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The interview with Headmaster Dippet does not go as he had hoped.


Chapter 1: Riddle's First Request.

"I trust that all of the documentation is in order Professor?" Riddle enquired in an overly polite tone intended to mask his eagerness. The frustration Tom felt at being made to sit whilst the professor poured over the pages in front of him was not so readily concealed, however. "I double checked everything of course, and I will be more than happy to answer any questions you may have sir." He persisted with the same level of politeness.

Professor Dippet glanced up momentarily from the parchment before him and peered at Tom from behind his reading spectacles.

"Hmm." He replied softly before taking a deep breath and continuing his reading.

Tom stifled a glare and squeezed one hand tightly with the other in frustration. The slow ticking of a large clock behind professor Dippet was interrupted by its own soft-sounding gong. Ten o'clock. An old wizard with a long, pointy beard yawned sarcastically from a painting high above the bookcase before smirking subtly at Riddle. Tom's eyes raged quietly at the painting. The bearded wizard looked away immediately and unassertively muttered something quietly under his breath. Tom allowed himself a faint grin to celebrate his small victory over the painting before readjusting his demeanour to best fit the task at hand. This was taking far longer than he had anticipated.

Professor Dippet opened a small drawer in the desk before him and placed the parchment inside before closing the drawer slowly. He removed his reading spectacles placing them on the table. Then he sat back in his chair, placed his hands together and rested his bearded chin on the tips of his fingers. He stared at Tom for a moment with no discernible expression. Tom stared back from his chair, effortlessly channelling the charm and demeanour of a bright and charismatic graduate.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of our most challenging teaching positions. Why do you want this job Tom?" Dippet asked

The response was immediate and well-rehearsed.

"In my years as a student at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I have developed a deep respect for the principles that this fine school was founded upon. I have endeavoured to achieve excellence in all my studies, and I have dedicated time to the leadership of others. I have discovered in these activities that I have a gift for understanding the mysteries of magic. I truly believe I can be a great teacher and I can make Hogwarts an even greater institution."

"Without a doubt Tom, there is greatness in you. I would go as far as to say that you are one of the greatest wizards I have ever come to know, and I've been alive for over three hundred years!"

"Thank you, sir." Said Tom proudly.

"I do, however believe that I would be doing you a disservice if I did not consider all of the factors in this decision."

"Sir?"

"You lived a large part of your life in an orphanage. Then you came to Hogwarts. I do not feel you have been able to benefit from the experience the world outside has to offer. In all honesty, I wonder whether you're ready."

Tom's eye twitched slightly as he processed these words of doubt.

"But Professor, you once said yourself that I would make a great teacher. I thought…"

Professor Dippet interrupted him.

"You're quite right Tom, and my opinion hasn't changed, but it's simply a question of timing you see." For the first time in their conversation, the professor broke eye contact. He stood up and admired a nearby painting with his back turned to Tom. Tom was angry and confused. He had not foreseen any resistance. He thought for a second.

"Sir, forgive me but… might there be any other reason for your hesitation?" The question lingered in the air for a moment but was ultimately ignored by the professor.

"Of course, your references are excellent. Professor Slughorn has written you one of the … well, certainly one of the longest 'accolades' I've seen thus far, and then there's your merits and the service you've performed here during your time as a student particularly in some of our more… troubled times." The Professor seemed to be reflecting on something for a moment.

Tom was also reflecting on a thought of his own.

"What about professor Dumbledore sir?" Professor Dippet returned slowly to his seat.

"What about him?"

"Well, it's just that you didn't mention him when you spoke of my references sir. I imagine you must have spoken to him about my potential appointment. I just wondered if he was at all supportive."

Professor Dippet considered this statement for a moment.

"You're quite right of course Tom, I mean it's only natural that I would ask his opinion. After all, Albus was responsible for bringing you to Hogwarts in the first instance. He has taken a keen interest in your progress over the years, as of course… have I."

"Well then sir, having taken such a keen interest, I'm sure both you and Professor Dumbledore would have been impressed with my efforts. You even gave me an award for special services to the school for intervening in a terrible incident which almost resulted in the schools' closure. I have always had the best interests of Hogwarts in mind."

"Yes, that was a terrible ordeal," Muttered professor Dippet quietly and thoughtfully. "…But you see, I had considered that this might be the best place for you, but it was Albus that impressed upon me the need for you to gain more experience outside of Hogwarts, perhaps a short stint at the Ministry of Magic, I'm sure you would do excellently there with your skills, and…"

"But I don't want to serve at the Ministry!" Tom snapped, finding it more difficult now to keep up the façade.

Professor Dippet flinched slightly. Realising that a direct confrontation would not improve his chances, Tom decided to revert to the use of charm.

"It's just that I have learned so much here sir. I have watched you over the years and come to admire you greatly. I wish only to serve and to continue to learn from your wisdom in an environment conducive to growth and personal development. I want to learn from the best sir. I can only do that here. I don't want to be anywhere else. I love Hogwarts sir!" Tom added with an unnatural smile.

Professor Dippet shuddered slightly, though he didn't know why. Something Tom said didn't sit right.

"What does that mean to you Tom?"

"Professor?"

"To 'love' Hogwarts. What does it mean to you?"

Tom looked confused. Without considering the question much further he gave his response.

"It's all I've ever known sir. It's my home. I don't want to leave. It upsets me to think of everyone else who gets to be here, and most of them quite honestly sir have no idea of the significance, the brilliance, the power that these walls have nurtured over the years…" Toms pace of speech quickened and his eyes grew wider with excitement, "the others… they don't appreciate Hogwarts like I do, I want to experience every inch of it, I want to live and breathe it. If I could spend a thousand years exploring its secrets, it still wouldn't be enough. Nobody understands this place like I do, its history, and ultimately its future. I want it sir, I want it all and I wont apologise for that, I believe it's my destiny, and I also believe that if anyone feels any less about Hogwarts, then they defile it with their presence and they should be removed, permanently. This place is sacred sir, the four founders knew that, and it's time we recognised it too and started restricting access to only those who are worthy." Tom had forgotten himself for a moment. Nevertheless, he felt that he had surely demonstrated his passion for Hogwarts.

Professor Dippet was disturbed by Tom's rant. He cleared his throat quietly before giving his response.

"That's not love Tom. That's something else."

"But Sir…"

"You see Tom," Dippet interrupted "It's the students that make Hogwarts. Without them, this is just a building, albeit a rather fancy one."

Tom looked as though he had been slapped across the face.

"Just a building sir?" He demanded incredulously.

"And that confirms to me that you are simply not ready. I'm sorry Tom, my decision is final. You are of course, welcome to apply again in the future, but I cannot impress upon you enough how important it is to get out and see the world. Experience life. Live a little Tom. Eighteen is just too young!"

"You're making a mistake!" Tom said through gritted teeth, all pretence of civility now rapidly diminishing.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Time will tell." With that, the Professor stood up and approached Tom, standing behind him now. "Try not to take it too hard." He said, placing a reassuring hand on Tom's shoulder. Tom retreated from him sharply before standing and approaching the office door. Taking one last look around the room, Tom clutched his wand tightly under his cloak and scowled briefly at the bearded wizard in the painting who promptly left his frame. The door behind Tom opened slowly. Making eye contact with the professor one more time, Riddle opened his mouth to say something before thinking better of it. He let out a condescending sneer before turning on the ball of his foot and storming out of the office.

Tom Riddle thundered down the corridor. He spotted a large bust of Professor Dippet seated on the top of a marble pedestal. He drew his wand in the blink of an eye. "Bombarda!" He bellowed pointing the wand at the bust, which immediately exploded into a thousand pieces. He continued briskly along his path leaving swirls of dust in the air around him.

The fury that surged through Toms veins was palpable. Professor Dippet was a fool for not giving him the job. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that - when it came to the Defence of the Dark Arts - no wizard knew more than Tom Riddle. He was exceptional in both magical proficiency and knowledge of the subject. He would often dual, and he would always had the grades and the ability - he had the passion and the drive. One might say he had the means and the motive but now he lacked the opportunity. The same could be said of Tom on many occasions.

Tom wondered how much influence Dumbledore had on Professor Dippet's decision. He had been keeping an annoyingly close eye on him for some time. Dippet had always implied to Tom that he expected him to remain at Hogwarts upon graduation. Following Hagrid's expulsion, Tom was even awarded for special services to the school. "Ha, it was a special service alright," Tom thought to himself "ridding Hogwarts of a filthy half-breed and his poxy pet." Though it was true that Hogwarts was not completely rid of Hagrid. He remained there to be trained as gamekeeper, apparently on Dumbledore's request. This was surely a sign that Dumbledore was not entirely convinced of Hagrid's guilt, and it was at this point that Dumbledore's suspicions about Tom began to grow. Surely if Dumbledore truly believed that Hagrid was guilty of opening the Chamber of Secrets, resulting in the death of a student - even accidentally – he would never recommend Hagrid stay at the school. Still, Tom wasn't too worried. The issue had long since been put to bed, and besides, there was never any proof of his involvement. "Let Hagrid stay at Hogwarts," Tom thought to himself, "The lumpy lummox can play with his stupid spiders in the forbidden forest till his hair goes grey for all I care. He'll never be a real wizard anyway!"

Tom's angry march had bought him to the main gates at the entrance to Hogwarts. The gates opened with a flick of his wand. He walked through and turned to face the school for a moment. He took a deep breath and admired his old home.

"They can't keep me away for ever." He said aloud, "They'll let anyone in here, mudbloods and half-breeds alike, desecrating the walls with their filthy little hands. Yet the heir of Salazar Slytherin himself is refused his rightful place? It's a joke. one day I'll be back, and this will all be mine. Then they'll be sorry. They'll all be sorry. Enemies of the heir, beware!"

With a loud crack, Tom riddle disapparated into the night.


End file.
